


But True Love, Seek Me In the Throng

by Morgan_Primus



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Poetry, Victorian poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26695012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgan_Primus/pseuds/Morgan_Primus
Summary: In the afterlife, Christine Chapel searches for her loverBefore us lies eternity; our souls are love, and a continual farewell. -WB YeatsTitle -Elizabeth Siddal poem(apologies to the film Now, Voyager)For Leonard Nimoy and Majel Barrett
Relationships: Christine Chapel/Spock
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16
Collections: Synaptic Pattern/Neurogenic Field AU





	1. Chapter 1

Nurse, your shift’s forever over, they told her; no further burdens for her to shoulder, one task left that she knows of.

Leave your physician’s instruments there where they lay; why try when your hands can’t touch them anymore, anyway?

They belong to a world that no longer has need of you. Go home, get undressed, and rest, they said. Death’s freed you.   
  
No more for you the trappings of the living, like that uniform; now, the winding sheet is what you’re most suited for.

No more for you the wounded crew to take care of. Dismissed, Chris. Farewell, hun; Go, thou, seek to find thy only true love:

Have you seen my Vulcan, that one, he of the smooth raven hair?

Of my dark-haired elfin-eared prince of rare atmosphere?

For now, I, grave-rejected, walk with a singular purpose, 

Forever to find him, to bring him to our home which will await us;

This other half of my soul, he walks, he searches for me too, I know,

I’d recognise his craggy face anywhere, I swear, and especially those:

Soft, dark brown eyes within that scar-flecked careworn visage,

Haunting my sleepless dreams worse than whatever this is;

This ceaseless wandering of an orbit-less moon,

Who’s lost, but knows she will find gravity soon;

He’s just over that hill I think; if not, over the next one then,

For as long as there’s always another hill, I can’t ever have lost him;

I cannot lose him now, I cannot fathom how, or what a soul does,

To release it from the state of being, to revert to before-it-was;

What arithmetic would set my sum, if more than one, to equal nothingness?

To the wavelength of senselessness, to bliss — that my soul were set to this;

Else let me achieve my deathless need to find my phantom lover,

We’ve come this far: to know we are two half-souls of one another’s;

O! Child of hot desert planet borne of cool Earth woman’s womb!

How is it that we’ve managed to yet again avoid the tomb?

I’ve received new orders: Christine Chapel, Service No. __2649,

To seek out and explore strange new worlds until the end of time;

Whether along star-routes, nebulas or wind-blasted mountain top,

I will search for my dark-haired Vulcan lover until Father Time’s clock stops.


	2. But True Love, Seek Me In the Throng: Epilogue

She’s searched for him in the vast fathomlessness of outer space,

Seas of darkness, cold long-dead stars lighting interstellar wastes;

“Yonder lies the terrible black hole that pulled me in then,”

“I got half-soul entangled in its event horizon’s net, when:”

“I saw his face reflected above mine, peering in with me,”

“Into time-shunned pools reflected to infinity;”

“Of scenes from our lives never-twined, and there running parallel,”

“Moving images of reasons our lives appeared a procession of farewells...”

I’d found him, forgive my small smile of satisfaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The event horizon’s net capturing events is real, although theoretical I’d suggest doing a net search. Cheers. x

**Author's Note:**

> Another wink to the Yeats line crept in; the concept fascinates me.


End file.
